Roberto Vecchioni: "No one would listen to De Andrè today. The loss of a child? I buffer the pain with life's joys."

CERNOBBIO (Como) – “It's no longer the time of Guccini and De Andrè,” says Roberto Vecchioni , in concert Sunday evening in Cernobbio under the moonlight at Lake Sound Park in Villa Erba. “It's the time for cute, summery songs, even enjoyable ones like Annalisa's latest, for example. But it's a completely different form of communication than ours, and we need to get into it,” he explains, in con certainly also at the Piazzale del Foro Boario in Edolo on August 8th and at the Sforza Castle in Vigevano on September 3rd. “A De And King wouldn't even be listened to today. Teaching at university, I had the opportunity to talk about him, and no one knew who he was. No one. Yes, some students knew 'La canzone di Marinella,' but only that. And I'm talking about twenty-year-olds. When the kids discovered that forty years ago someone was already singing the things we think about today, they were amazed. So I encouraged them to listen to Cohen, the Beatles, people who really said something with their music."

Hard times.

And yet, my concerts are packed. Always two or three thousand people, I certainly wouldn't dream of going any higher. After all, the world is a structure. And when the political and economic structure changes, so does the moral, religious, and artistic one. That's why we can't have the same structure we had 50 years ago today. It's not possible. Unthinkable in an Italy where 50% of the population doesn't vote. I even agree (not politically, but ethically) with those on the right who at least do. They vote for a world tailor-made for them, but they express themselves. It's not like they sit around doing nothing and say: I don't care, I'm just working my own backyard."

Important memories?

Everyone's memories. When children are born, when you meet the gaze of the woman of your life for the first time and realize it's really her. But important memories are also tragic ones. For some, like the death of a parent, you're prepared. For the death of a child, no. You're never prepared for that. It happened to Daria and me. Two years have passed and my wife can't move on; she's still hurting. I'm better able to buffer the pain with life's joys. Having four grandchildren, for example.

Let's talk about beautiful memories, then.

I still have fantastic memories of my 2011 Sanremo victory. I also hold dear my performance at last year's Festival with Alfa in 'Sogna ragazzo sogna', because perhaps it completed something that had been left unfinished. So much so that, 25 years later, it even earned a double gold record (for both the solo and duet versions, ed. ). After the duet, a lady, meeting me in the street, complimented me on my 'latest song,' and when I pointed out that she was 25, she replied, 'Thanks, but I'm actually 50.' I couldn't help but laugh.

Professor Vecchioni continues to go strong.

“2024 was a wonderful year; in 60 concerts, I played to at least 200,000 people. And this one, too, is a very lived experience. I haven't made an album in five years, but I've already written eight songs for the new one: it'll be out in 2026. Although I think the last one, 'L'infinito,' was the definitive one; a total album, an incredible act of love for life. A girl is writing a book about it, and I can't wait to read it.”

Since every album is a product of its time, would you remake all of yours?

I think one or two weren't really in tune with their time. 'Rotary Club of Malindi' from 2004, for example, which I've never been too fond of. It doesn't seem politically appropriate to me. On the other hand, I like all the latest ones, starting with 'Di rabbia e di stelle' and 'Io non appartengo più'. 'Il lanciatore di coltelli' from 2002, with arrangements by Mauro Pagani, and a decidedly feminine album like 'Il cielo capovolto' from 1995 are also beautiful. Some of the '70s albums are less in focus, including 'Robinson, come salvarersi la vita' despite their success. Listening to them again today, even the latest recordings for CGD ('Bei tempi', 'Ippopotami', 'Milady', ed. ) don't seem very good to me.

His recordings have paralleled his literary output. So much so that he's just returned to bookstores with a journey around the word in "The White Bear Was Black."

I'd had the idea in my head for fifty years, but I was afraid to bring it to fruition because I risked writing a book that was too cultured or a load of bullshit. When I found the right path, it worked. Words are double-edged; they can be black and white, you can interpret them one way or another, and so is sentences. As Saussure said, words are truly the mirror of our duplicity.

At 82, what would you like from time immemorial?

I would have liked to have some of my stuff reach people a little sooner; having to wait until I'm 80 to see 'Sogna ragazzo sogna', a very easy song in itself, understood is a bit much. Otherwise, I'm happy with my artistic career, because I've always done what I wanted. I consider myself a lucky person. And, if I put my life on the scale, the pains certainly outweigh the joys... but they weigh less.